Open Your Eyes series
by corneroffandom
Summary: Ricardo Rodriguez and Alberto Del Rio short stories.
1. Explanations

Ricardo Rodriguez stares blankly ahead as he sits at the hotel room desk, trying to make sense of his thoughts and feelings as he halfheartedly sketches. He knows Alberto Del Rio is somewhere behind him, doing whatever before he prepares for bed, but the former ring announcer can't bring himself to care right now. It hadn't been a great night for him.

He'd lost a match as El Local earlier in the evening, but that disappointment had been nothing in comparison to what he'd felt when he'd watched Alberto trying to charm Vickie Guerrero to get out of competing against Cena for his World title. The General Manager had requested he kiss her and Alberto had complied, first a somewhat chaste kiss, then a slightly more thorough one, though no less awkward. But his discomfort with the situation hadn't mattered to Ricardo- that he had done such a thing anyway had left him steaming, unable to believe that his former employer had done it at all, especially in such a public format, where he knows that Ricardo would be watching.

Sandow, for once, had been a welcome sight, and Ricardo had fought down his emotions while watching the match that followed, eyes dark and glum as the rest of Smackdown carries on. When Alberto returned to the locker room, pleased about his defeating Sandow, Ricardo had barely spoken, Alberto's face falling slightly when he saw the look in his eyes.

He gives him some time to himself at the hotel before approaching him. "Ah, mi valiente, I'm sorry about your loss." He hugs him from behind, not noticing how tense he still seems. "I'm sure you'll get them next time, hm?"

"Right," Ricardo mutters, his pencil scribbling angry grey lines against the paper, tearing it and ruining the picture he had been working on. "Next time. Sure."

Finally cottoning on that something more is wrong here, Alberto cups his hand and takes the pencil from him, pulling the chair he's sitting on back so he can fit on the desk, facing him. "Mi valiente, what's wrong? Something other than your match-"

"Did you enjoy kissing her?" he asks bitterly, staring down at his hands. "Vickie Guerrero? Did you enjoy the attention she was giving you- would you want to do it again-?"

Alberto looks like he's been punched, trying and failing to grab the other man's hands, Ricardo moving away from him with a frenzied, almost scared look in his eye. "What? Ricardo-"

"Just tell me the truth, Alberto. I know how much your title means to you, but... more than me? Really?" He grimaces and fights tears. "After everything we've been through, you can't even find another way outside of humilating me by kissing someone else on national TV... not once but three times?"

"Ricardo-"

"Was all of this just... pity? You claimed you loved me fresh off of Sheamus' brogue kick that jacked my neck up so badly, then took such good care of me when Big Show kept attacking me, and Swagger broke my ankle. I thought it was because you really loved me, but I... can't help but wonder now, when it's so easy for you to kiss someone else in front of tens of thousands of people... Did you even consider what that would do to me? Where my mind would go when I saw that?" His shoulders shake as he drops down on the bed and scrubs at his face, trying still not to cry. "I... I would never-"

Alberto swallows and approaches him, pain etched across his face. "I know you wouldn't, but- Ricardo, por favor-" The ring announcer doesn't move, doesn't react, as Del Rio kneels down in front of him, careful not to crowd him. "It wasn't pity, everything I've ever said to you regarding my feelings is sincere. I would never lie to you about such things. You have to believe me-"

"Do I?" he asks, voice muffled through his fingers.

Del Rio looks away, fighting his aggravation- with himself, with Vickie Guerrero, with the entire situation regarding Cena and his World title. He understands why Ricardo would feel betrayed, lied to, after everything they'd been through, but it still hurts. When he tries to convince him again, his voice is slightly shaking, fearing that it won't be enough. That Ricardo won't buy what he's saying, take his things, and leave. They're not even connected professionally anymore, so if he chose to leave, Alberto couldn't use a contractual obligation to bring him back. "Mi valiente, please. I have no feelings for Vickie, I have no feelings for anyone but you. You have been by my side through everything, good times and bad, and I would've been lost so many times without you. Vickie Guerrero has been nothing but a terror to both of us for years, constantly belittling you, sticking me in impossible situations. As if my taste in romantic interests would ever be that questionable." His voice trails away as he rests his hands on Ricardo's knees, lightly squeezing. "I aspire to have nothing but the best in my life, so why would I downgrade so sharply?"

The younger man peeks through his fingers, staring down at Alberto, shudders rattling through him. "Re- really?"

"Si! Si, of course, look at me. I'm not lying to you, I know I took it too far by kissing her, and I am so, so sorry for that, mi valiente, but things have not been easy for me either. I miss working alongside you, Ricardo, and I can't lose my World title as well... so I reacted in the moment, and I have regretted it every moment since." He gets back to his feet and settles down on the bed next to Ricardo. "Could you ever forgive me, mi valiente? And if there's anything I can do to make that easier, tell me, por favor, I'll do anything you ask of me..."

Ricardo breathes in deeply and ducks his head. "Could you just... just hold me...?" he asks wearily, Alberto staring at what of his face he can see.

"Of course," he mutters quietly, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him against his chest. "I've got you. Everything's going to be ok." He strokes his fingers through Ricardo's hair, lightly kissing the top of his head. "Lo siento, lo siento," he whispers, closing his eyes as Ricardo starts to cry against him. "Oh, mi valiente. Talk to me."

"It's just- I wasn't expecting any of this when I... I agreed to... cut our professional ties. How much it would hurt," he sniffs. "How hard it would be, without you by my side... I..." He chokes. "Seeing you with Vickie, I know it didn't really mean anything, but... I miss you and I'm afraid the more time we spend apart, the more you'll enjoy your freedom, and..."

Alberto stares down at him in shock and shakes his head. "Ay, Ricardo, never. Who is it I always find first thing as soon as I'm backstage after a match or segment? I hate every second we're apart, and I want no one else by my side to celebrate my victories with, or to comfort me after I lose. And, hey, I promise you," he breathes, tilting Ricardo's chin up so he can look him in the eye. "I will _never_ do anything like this again, si? No matter what's on the line, I will make sure to never put this expression on your face again." He gently wipes the tears off of Ricardo's cheeks and smiles down at him, leaning in towards him. "Trust me?" he asks a couple of inches from his lips, searching his eyes.

It takes a minute, Ricardo staring up at him wonderingly, but his simple, one worded answer eases some of the pain and guilt from Alberto. "Si," he breathes, nodding.

Alberto smiles at him and bridges the gap between them, kissing him warmly, the natural, perfect moment so unlike his forced ones with Vickie not lost on either of them. "I love you, mi valiente."

Ricardo smiles and wraps his arms around him, sighing softly as Alberto hugs him back. "And I love you, El Patron."


	2. Learning

Alberto shifts and stirs, groggy and disoriented. His dark eyes blink a time or two, hands sprawling out across the bed in search of... something, someone. He yawns and sits up, frowning to find that the spot next to him is empty, cool. Clearly abandoned long ago. "Ricardo?" he mumbles, kicking the sheets away and stumbling out of his bedroom. Ricardo's room is empty as well, and his confusion turns to worry as he wanders down the hall and finds Sofia in the kitchen, preparing lunch. He smiles slightly when he realizes it's well past 9 AM, but breakfast is still waiting for him, even if it's just homemade muffins and fruit. "Hola, Sofia, buenos dias," he offers, voice still thick with sleep as he takes a seat.

"Buenos dias, senor," she returns, smiling over her shoulder at him as she continues preparing chicken.

He stares at her for a moment, picking at a lemon muffin. "Ay, Sofia, have you seen Ricardo this morning?" He doesn't like seeming needy, but waking up without the ring announcer by his side had left him confused, floundering. Based on the smile that she fails at hiding, he's pretty sure she knows where the younger man is at. "Sofia, where is he?"

She hesitates, still spreading spices and herbs along the chicken before looking up at him. "Senor, I think he should be the one to tell you."

"Is it a surprise?" Del Rio wonders, unable to resist. He likes surprises, despite being well into his 30s, considering a man of his bearing and financial stability is usually the one to treat others to such things. She purses her lips, however, and turns back to her meal plans, clearly determined not to tell him anything else. He makes a face at her back before finishing off his muffin. "Perhaps I will go look for him on my own then," he tells her, dusting his hands off and returning to his bedroom to get dressed. Her lack of response still makes him huff out a breath as he searches his closet, deciding not to go all out in dress clothes as he's not sure what Ricardo is doing, exactly. He pulls on jeans and one of those shirts Ricardo had ordered from an online site with the two of them in chibi form, running a comb through his hair before he grabs one of his many sets of car keys just in case and ducks outside.

He wanders for awhile but his grounds are quiet, untouched by anything but dew and animals, so he quickly gives up that thought, especially when none of the lawn staff have seen Ricardo out this way, so he goes instead to one of the garages and selects a car, peeling out of his driveway after entering the security code at the gate. He's not sure where to look, exactly, checking all of Ricardo's typical favorite places, before he drives past the NXT training facility. Something makes him stop and return, frowning up at the building as he parks. "Hmm..." Mumbling to himself in Spanish, he exits the car and walks inside, glancing around at the facility. He tries to avoid this place, never thrilled with the time he'd spent in developmental, but something is calling to him now, so he follows his instincts.

There are a number of people scattered around, doing whatever it is they do here, his eyes trailing disinterestedly over them... before he spots a familiar form among them, dark hair and focused eyes locked on the nearby trainers, explaining to them what they're to do today. He stares on in shock before finding a seat out of sight of the ring, settling in to watch as the session carries on. Thankfully, everyone here knows to avoid him, especially when he glares warningly at them, so his presence isn't made public to the others who are training. This allows him to watch the duration of the training, his eyes locked on one person in particular, a proud little smirk on his face as they easily manage each practice thrown their way.

Once the group's time in the ring is wrapping up, Alberto stands up and makes sure he's visible, eyebrows raising when Ricardo exits the ring and turns just to come face to face with him, jumping backwards slightly. "Eh- eh, El Patron!" he gasps, eyes wide. "I... I, uh..."

Alberto laughs, resting his hands on his shoulders. "You, you uh what, mi valiente?" Ricardo is still gaping up at him in shock and Alberto decides to put him out of his misery, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his mouth. "This is where you've been all morning? Sofia wouldn't tell me... but somehow I ended up here, and guess who I see, but you..." He searches Ricardo's face with a fond smile. "But, Ricardo, why wouldn't you just tell me? I was confused when I woke up this morning and you were gone, I thought neither of us had plans today..."

The younger man swallows harshly and looks down, seeming ashamed of himself. "I, it's just... I didn't want to tell you that I've decided to begin training, I wanted to wait until I had something substantial to show for it..." He sighs. "I want to compete, I want to wrestle. This is hopefully the first step towards gaining attention, achieving that."

Alberto's smile slips at the hesitant, uncomfortable look on Ricardo's face, realization dawning on him. It had only been a few weeks ago that Del Rio had attacked him, taken him off of TV. Since, he had only been booked sparingly as El Local, and not at all in the last couple weeks. Of course he was going to start doing this, try another way to get booked into matches, even if just on NXT... "Oh, mi valiente, I didn't mean to make you feel bad- I shouldn't have barged in like this, but I honestly didn't know you were going to be here. If I had known how you felt about it..." He releases a deep breath and tugs Ricardo closer, kissing his forehead. "By what I've seen, you're already doing fantastic... I like watching you in the ring, but if you feel more at ease without my watching, I understand."

"I do, I- It makes me happy that you want to watch my progress, but..." He falters for a moment and shakes his head, smiling sheepishly. "You intimidate people on a good day, El Patron, and normally I'm more than fine with that, but not when I'm trying to train, si? And besides, if we're seen together too often, what will come of your idea for us to be separate professionally?"

Alberto winces, releases a breath. "True, mi valiente. You have a point. I was just... worried when I woke up this morning and you were gone, I wasn't truly thinking straight." He strokes Ricardo's neck and sighs. "But even so, I'm thrilled that you have taken this step, I have no doubt it will bring you much success." He smiles down at him. "Although we shouldn't be seen together too much in WWE halls, I know somewhere where we can go that such things will be alright." Ricardo looks curious as Alberto wraps an arm around him and leads him back to the locker rooms so he can shower and change before they leave.

While he waits on Ricardo, he calls Sofia, remembering the chicken she had been preparing, and encouraging her to store it until closer to supper time, as their lunch plans have changed. She's agreeable, thankfully, and his face lights up into a brilliant smile when Ricardo returns, his hair still damp and free of all product, making him look even younger as he stuffs the clothes he'd worn while training back in his bag. "So where are we going, El Patron?" he asks, turning to smile back at his former employer.

"Well, mi valiente, I kept hearing about this new sushi place that someone wants to try out and I figure... what better day than today, to celebrate how well he did in training by doing just that? Hmm? Does that sound good?"

Ricardo's eyes widen and he nods, hurriedly lifting his bag and moving quickly to Alberto's side. "Si, I've been wanting to go there for so long, El Patron! Muchas gracias."

Alberto smiles down at him, his eyes gleaming as he leans in and kisses him. "My pleasure, mi valiente," he whispers, hugging him warmly. "Let's go then, and you can tell me more about your training." He chuckles warmly as Ricardo's grin grows, the two of them walking side by side to the exit as Ricardo begins to do just that, Alberto's arm wrapped snugly around his shoulders. Alberto absentmindedly pushes the door open as Ricardo's hand reaches up and curls around his while it hangs off of his shoulder, squeezing lightly, Del Rio's teeth flashing as he grins too, staring fondly down at the other man.


	3. Comfort

Alberto suspects it's what he deserves. This abrupt loss of his World title, having to walk back through the halls empty handed, and with no one by his side to soften the blow. _That perro, John Cena,_ he thinks grimly. He doesn't even catch a glimpse of Ricardo on his way back to his room, because the younger man had opted to remain at the hotel. Watch the PPV from there, since he was still in the process of catching back up with his training and had only traveled out to keep Alberto company.

As lonely as the arena feels without him, Alberto is almost glad he's not here to perhaps get caught up in the maelstrom of his rage as he angrily collects his things from the World champion's locker room for the last time, staring around at what soon will be cluttered by Cena's nonsense. He releases a heavy breath and stares darkly at the monitor before seeking out his phone, thinking perhaps he could call Ricardo, try to calm down through a quick conversation with him... but he pauses, seeing text alerts from Twitter flashing there, and accesses the messages, wondering what could possibly be said from someone important enough to be on his alert list- Ricardo, and Memo, and a scarce few others-

All possibilities are wiped from his mind as he sees what had his phone lit up. A tweet, from Ricardo... congratulating Cena, and thanking him. He pales, shakes his head and rereads it, trying to convince himself that his mind's playing tricks on him, that he's so far addled from the loss and the physicality of the match that he's just imagining things... but no, the words are still there, still as damning as they were a moment earlier. "Ay, no," he mumbles, sitting down heavily. He only remains for a brief while, however, knowing that he needs to leave, that soon techs will be by ensuring that he's vacated the so-called new champion's locker room.

He wanders, once he finds himself out of the room, his bag dangling from his hand. Down hallways, through groups of staff making sure the show concludes successfully, outside. His car is nearby, he can see it gleaming in the lights overhead, but he walks past it and down a sidewalk, not minding the weight of his bag in his hand or the people who recognize him and mutter, whispering behind their hands. Some yell at him, but he doesn't stop, nor turn to look. All that keeps replaying in his mind is Ricardo's tweet to Cena. _Has he secretly been bitter towards me this entire time, or is he merely just holding true to our professional dissolution?_ He walks until his legs throb, already aching from the match, then has to turn around and backtrack to the arena to get his car, but he barely notices because, really, it's always been the emotional agony that has far exceeded the physical.

Their hotel room is dark, quiet, when he limps inside, and he's vacantly thrown to see that the clock says it's nearly midnight. He releases a faint breath, drops his bag by the door and wanders inside, comforted immediately by the familiar sound of Ricardo's steady breathing. But the former ring announcer isn't in the bed, and Alberto's eyes furrow as he tracks each inhale and exhale, finally spotting him nearby on the sofa. He smiles faintly, knowing that he sits up for Alberto and tends to fall asleep if he's out too late, wandering closer to him with a sad gleam in his eyes as he wonders how many times he's come home to a similar sight. Resting his hand on top of Ricardo's head, he strokes his hair lightly and leans in, kissing his forehead before he spots the iPad resting on his chest.

Tugging it from his slack fingers, he settles it on the nearby table and sits down next to Ricardo, unsurprised when he automatically curls in close to Alberto, his fingers tangling into the folds of his scarf. Somewhere along the line, the ring announcer must wake up because he murmurs, "El Patron?"

"Mm hmm." They sit quietly for a moment, Ricardo's breathing warm against Alberto's throat, the Mexican aristocrat's fingers gentle against his scalp, but finally he pulls back- not enough to escape Alberto's touch, but just enough to look up- and catches his eye.

"I'm sorry you lost tonight."

Alberto says nothing for a long moment, his fingers stilling against Ricardo's hair. "Right," he says lowly, closing his eyes and resting his head back against the couch, suddenly exhausted to the bone. He reconsiders having not just going to bed and leaving Ricardo to sleep here.

Ricardo's eyes widen at the subtle disbelief in his voice before glancing at his iPad. Realization and shame courses through him as he realizes. "Maldita sea, I forgot- you have text alerts on your phone."

"Si," Alberto confirms wearily.

"I- I... No, no, no, El Patron, I deleted those tweets! I realized how pathetic it was, I- they're gone, I swear to you. I didn't... didn't mean it like that, I just thought it would confirm to people that we are truly done and over with on a professional level. I don't enjoy for one moment that you've lost your title, I know how much it means to you, por favor-" He scrambles, leaning over Alberto to collect his iPad and show him that he's being honest, the tweets are gone, but Del Rio doesn't let him move, wrapping an arm around his chest and holding him in place. "Eh, El Patron-"

He chuckles slowly and shifts to look at Ricardo, a tired smile on his face. "Relax, mi valiente. Yes, at first the words were like a punch to my gut, but I do not hold them against you. I realized what you were trying to accomplish while I was driving here... Besides, after everything I have done and said that hurt you since we orchestrated this entire thing, I have no place to hold an impulsive tweet against you. Especially one that you apparently deleted as soon as you realized how wrong it was." He lightly strokes his fingers down Ricardo's palm and leans closer to him. "Just, no matter what happens from here on..."

Ricardo blinks, shuddering a little at the squirmy, tickling sensation traveling down his wrist, while staring at Alberto. "Si?"

"Never tweet anything pro-Cena again, si, mi valiente?"

"Si, definitely not," he agrees easily, smiling when Alberto kisses him.

"Let's go to bed now, this sofa is horrible." Alberto smiles as Ricardo nods eagerly and gets off of him, holding a hand out to the older man. Lacing his fingers with Ricardo's, he allows himself to be pulled upright and the two of them walk side by side to the bed to get some proper sleep before Raw tomorrow, Del Rio determined to get his title back somehow, someway.


	4. Encouragement

Ever since RVD had left and Ricardo hadn't been used on TV, a change has come over Alberto. Subtle at first but growing with time as his match against Cena loomed. The former ring announcer hadn't thought much of it at first, but after the PPV, after Cena defeats Alberto for the title, it becomes clear. Especially when Ricardo wakes up on Monday morning and finds Alberto still in bed, seeming quite content just to lay next to him and doze. Worried, he leans over and strokes his hair, kisses his forehead. "El Patron," he whispers. When his dark eyes open and lock on Ricardo, the former ring announcer smiles slightly, relieved that he's awake. "You need to get up," he tells him simply. "It's Monday, you have to go travel to Raw... your flight is soon, si?"

Alberto yawns and shakes his head, rolling over and wrapping an arm around Ricardo, burying his face in the younger man's neck. "No," he murmurs sleepily. "I'm not going." He hadn't wanted to face Cena, he hadn't wanted to be Superman's return match. Not because he was scared, but because Cena bores him. The entire _company_ bores him. Especially when Ricardo's attempt at being booked had fizzled out before given a real chance to catch on. So if he opts instead to spend the day in bed, blocking out the world and hugging his former ring announcer, so be it.

Except that Ricardo is worried and when Ricardo's worried, it means Sofia's worried, which is something both of them try to avoid. "But El Patron," he insists, running his fingers through Alberto's hair again. "You need to go to Raw. I know it's annoying, especially now, but you can't win your world title back unless you're there to challenge Cena, remind people that Alberto Del Rio will fight for his goals."

Del Rio groans vaguely and pulls away from the younger man, looking up at him once more. "You don't want me to stay at home, Ricardo?" Beneath the slight snap of his voice, there lies weariness and a little bit of hurt, Ricardo's eyes widening in realization. "I am tired of this, mi valiente. Time away from you, the same old song and dance with Cena that I feel like I've been struggling to get free of for two years, and now I have to fight to get the title back yet again. This is not my destiny, I don't know what this is, but there has to be something else- something better..."

Ricardo cups his face, searches his eyes. "El Patron, you've never been one to give up, in all of the years I've known you," he tells him quietly. "No matter who or what stood in your way, you'd dust yourself off and fight even harder until you achieved your goals. I'll be on the road with you again soon, but for now, you can't let that hinder you. I'll find my place either on TV, or in NXT, and everything will be alright."

Alberto sighs, his eyes lowered as Ricardo's words wash over him, reminding him of all of the years they'd spent side by side, fighting for just the slightest recognition in the high-paced, stressful world of the WWE. He looks back up and examines Ricardo's face, understanding abruptly. _I can't allow it all to be for nothing, I can't allow Ricardo's willingness to focus on my career and needs over his own for the last few years be meaningless. _He feels himself nodding before he realizes just what he's doing, the smile dawning on the younger man's face making the decision easier for him. "Very well, I will fly out shortly... but I'll miss you, mi valiente."

"I'll miss you too, El Patron," Ricardo nods. "But we'll sort it out, select a day when both of us are free to spend it at home, doing absolutely whatever you want." He smiles as Alberto leans in and kisses him before pulling away just enough to rest his forehead against Ricardo's, their eyes closed as they absorb strength from the other. "I love you."

"I love you too," Del Rio murmurs, offering him one more kiss before he gets up and pads off to the bathroom to get ready to leave for Raw, prepare for his rematch against Cena... to get his world title back once more.


	5. Knowledge

It's early Friday morning when Alberto wakes up to find Ricardo pressed close to him, still fast asleep with an arm around Alberto's waist. He smiles and checks the clock, pursing his lips as he remembers an over the phone interview he has to take shortly. But they have a little bit of time so he tilts his head and watches as Ricardo sleeps on peacefully, his lips twitching into a fond smile as he reaches out and brushes hair out of Ricardo's face, the younger man not even stirring at his touch. He sighs and looks out at the late November weather, pondering the upcoming holidays, Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Years, and...

"Stop thinking so hard, El Patron," Ricardo's drowsy voice finally cuts into his thoughts, Alberto turning to stare at him as he shifts upwards, resting his head on Alberto's shoulder as he too looks out of the window. "Looks nice outside."

"Si, too bad we have to fly out to colder states for Smackdown," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of Ricardo's head. "But first, remember what I have to handle soon this morning, mi valiente?"

He thinks for a moment, rubbing at his eyes. "Eh, phone interviews?"

"Si," Alberto nods, stroking Ricardo's hair. "I'm unsure what questions they'll be asking... But if you don't want to listen, I understand. I'm sure Sofia has breakfast cooking, and-"

"No, I'll stay," he murmurs, his eyes slipping shut once more as he curls into Alberto's warmth. "I know not to take anything personally." One of the hot topics still on most people's minds were their former partnership, even though nothing had happened between them in public since October 5th when Ricardo had last been on TV sans a mask. He smiles slightly, only able to imagine the general reaction if they knew the truth.

"Alright," Alberto murmurs, still sounding a bit uncertain. Even so, when the phone rings, he's careful not to dislodge Ricardo from his arm as he reaches out and answers it. "Hola." After some exchanged pleasantries, they get into the meat of the interview, which is fairly simple, commonplace. They ask about his toughest opponents, his opinion on a few people and situations, then they ask about Ricardo. His voice catches in his throat and he glances down at the sleepy man, slowly blinking awake at the lengthy pause Alberto is trapped in, but their eyes lock and Alberto finally finds his words. He claims not to care, that he's forgotten Ricardo already, and although Ricardo doesn't say or do anything, some light fades from his eyes. No matter how fake the words are, Alberto knows how much it hurts to hear them, especially considering the things that Ricardo had had to say about him to sell it back in August. It disgusts him that it's been over three months and they're still stuck trying to convince people that they're not a unit anymore... why, he's not even sure any longer.

The attempt had failed, both men were in worse places career wise than before, but he's not sure how to fix it any longer, those in WWE seeming content with keeping them apart. _Probably because they know together, we're unstoppable,_ he thinks, stroking Ricardo's arm as he wraps the interview up with a question about Eddie Guerrero. Hanging up the phone, he cups Ricardo's face and stares into his eyes. "Lo siento, I said more than I should, perhaps-"

"It's fine, El Patron, I know you were only selling what we put into motion months ago." Ricardo pats his wrists and moves like he's about to get up, get started for the day, but Alberto leans forward and grips him, tugging him back onto the bed, his arms snug around his midsection. "El Patron-"

"Uno momento," he breathes, pressing his face into Ricardo's hair. "I do care," he murmurs. "And I'll never stop. I love you, Ricardo."

Ricardo sighs and sinks back into him, smiling. "I know, El Patron. It is exactly the same for me, no matter what happens or where our roads lead... I love you too." He gives Alberto a few more moments to hold him, easing his guilt from having to say so many ugly things, before squeezing his arms. "But we really do need to get moving or we'll either anger Sofia for ruining her breakfast, or risk missing our flight. Personally, I'm more worried about the first of those two things."

Alberto laughs against his neck and nods, slowly freeing him from his possessive hug. "Alright, mi valiente. When you put it that way, si, let's go." But Ricardo waits at the doorway and, when Alberto joins him, wraps his arms around him as they walk side by side to the kitchen to greet the housekeeper.


	6. Training

Alberto has lost against Sin Cara again. Ordinarily it'd just be a set back, he'd shake it off and move on, but this is different. On top of the losses to Cena, and the World title being unified with the WWE title, which lessens his chances of regaining it, it feels like a serious situation, perhaps the beginning of the end of his career.

He's tense and he's angry, sitting mulishly at the kitchen table, Sofia peering over at him worriedly as she prepares supper for the three of them. Ricardo is standing behind him, massaging his shoulders and trying to think of some way to actually help him, since what he's been trying to do hasn't been doing anything. Finally he leans down and wraps his arms around the Mexican aristocrat's chest, lightly kissing his cheek. "El Patron, what do you say we go train in the basement gym before supper? Work out some of this energy, hm?"

Alberto doesn't say anything for a long moment, finally turning to look into Ricardo's earnest eyes. "Fine," he says lowly. Brushing Ricardo's hands away coolly, he stands from the table and walks determinedly down the stairs, Sofia and the former ring announcer exchanging worried glances before he goes to join him. By the time Ricardo makes it to the ring, Alberto's already in his ring gear, wrapping his wrists tightly in preparation for a fight.

Ricardo hesitates, second guessing his offer now, but obligingly gets into his own gear, the full body suit that he wears whenever he competes as El Local. They get into the ring and Alberto impatiently shakes Ricardo's hand before falling into a ready stance, waiting for Ricardo to approach. When he does, Alberto snags his wrist and draws him in the rest of the way, punching him. Ricardo staggers back, holding his face and staring on in shock, but tries to shake it off and move back into position for a more traditional lock up, but Alberto responds to this by sweeping his feet out from under him and sending him hard to the mat.

Ricardo shudders and hisses as the breath is taken roughly from his lungs, his eyes watering as he looks up at the lights. "El Patron," he wheezes, trying to get his arms up for some defense as Alberto hovers over his downed body, punches and kicks raining down on him again and again. Alberto eventually seems to bore of this and walks off, allowing Ricardo to roll onto his knees, regaining some of his breath. "El Patron-" He doesn't see the enzuigiri coming, only feeling the impact as his head is rocked to the side before he crumples back against the mat.

Only just aware of what a terrible mistake this offer now was, he clings to a glimmer of consciousness before he feels fingers in his hair, tugging him up in the cruelest way possible. He wavers on his feet, struggling to keep an eye on Alberto, when he feels himself being dragged over to the ropes. His body is pliant, it doesn't feel like his own, as gravity fails him and he finds himself staring at the mat upside down. He realizes he's hanging from the second rope in Alberto's improvised tree of woe, rough, impatient fingers gripping his hands and forcing him to hang onto the turnbuckle before Del Rio climbs the ropes, memories of when Alberto had first practiced this move on him, how badly it had hurt, echoes back through his sluggish mind and he starts to cry. "No, no, El Patron, por favor- stop, s-stop," he pleads. He's hanging awkwardly, only able to see Alberto's enraged, ruddy face from this angle. "El Patron, please-"

Their eyes catch and Alberto falters, almost falling off of the turnbuckle himself before he sits heavily on the top rope, staring down at Ricardo in terror. "Ay dios mio," he breathes out, shaking his head in disbelief as clarity returns to his dark eyes, the anger slowly leaving him. "Ricardo?"

"Help me," he pleads, starting to tremble from the strain of supporting himself in such an awkward angle. "Por favor... El Patron..."

Alberto immediately curses darkly, getting back to his feet and carefully clearing Ricardo's prone body when he leaps down to the mat. Immediately he twists around and brace's Ricardo's back with his arms, offering him some support. "Relax, mi valiente, I have you," he breathes. Ricardo's hands seem frozen in place but he finally, tentatively, unhooks them from the turnbuckle, allowing Alberto to guide his body down slowly to the mat, knees still bent up into the second rope until Alberto drags him clear of that too. "I have you."

Once laying horizontally once more, Ricardo cries and buries his face in Alberto's side, shaking his head. "Lo siento, I thought it would help, distract you, but it only made it worse, didn't it?"

"None of this was your fault," Alberto tells him, voice trembling as he realizes just what he could've done to the man in his arms. "You were trying to help me and I lost myself in anger and humiliation again..." He strokes Ricardo's soft black hair, feeling his sobs shaking through both of them. "I am the one who is truly sorry, mi valiente. I know I have already asked this of you too much, but please... forgive me?"

Ricardo sniffs and nods, sitting up a little and kissing Alberto. "Of course, I know it's not... it's just... you're understandably angry over how things have been going, it was nothing personal. You probably didn't even realize it was me in the ring, you were so lost in the moment."

Alberto stares into his eyes, trying to remember what he was thinking only moments earlier. "I believe you're right, but it doesn't make it right, Ricardo." He brushes the fresh tears off of the ring announcer's face, leaning in to kiss him. "I promise you, Ricardo, if I ever feel this close to losing it, I'll never agree to training with you again. It breaks my heart to come this close to hurting you." He lightly brushes his thumb against one of the spots he'd punched him earlier and Ricardo winces away, Alberto's eyes filling with guilt and pain. "I'm so sorry," he breathes out, hugging Ricardo close and pressing his face against the top of Ricardo's head.

Ricardo nods and curls in tighter against Alberto, absorbing as much comfort as he can from being held like this, until Sofia calls down that supper's ready.

Neither wanting to worry her, Alberto gets to his feet and gently pulls Ricardo up as well, searching his face. "We're alright?"

"Si," Ricardo agrees, smiling as Alberto finds his hand and squeezes his fingers softly, leaning in to kiss him before they head upstairs.


	7. Rest

Ricardo paces. He grits his teeth, staring up at the screen listing flights coming and going, willing it to update with news on his own flight... but there's no news. He groans and slumps down in the nearest seat, kicking uselessly at his bag. Robotically grabs for his phone, dialing WWE to alert them he's going to miss Raw and why. This done, he texts Alberto to alert him so he won't worry as well. "Kick some extra ass for me tonight," he adds at the end of the text with a smiley face, hoping that Alberto will take it to mean that Ricardo has faith in him. Which he always had and always will, no matter what.

He's watching Raw in the airport lounge, waiting for an opportunity to talk to staff to exchange his ticket to a flight for the city that Smackdown is being held at later in the week, when Alberto's next attempt against Sin Cara begins. Ricardo is sure that tonight is his night, watching on the edge of his seat... until Alberto takes a powerbomb from the top rope wrong, landing on his head. "Ay, no!" he exclaims, ignoring the people milling around as he jumps out of his seat and stands as close to the TV as he can, staring on in horror until the match ends. There's no question, El Patron is hurt and he's stuck in this horrible airport. Gritting his teeth, he walks determinedly back to the desk and waits to be paid attention to.

"How may I help you, sir?" a man finally asks boredly and he all but slaps the ticket down on the counter, the man's attention finally piqued.

"My flight was canceled, so I need this ticket exchanged to the next available flight to the same city, as soon as possible," he says coolly, taking all of the things he's learned as the person who typically books all of Alberto's flights and hotel rooms and using it to his advantage to make this airport bend to his will. He may not have Del Rio kinds of money but he did have the strength to be Alberto's right hand man for years and sometimes, like now, he draws upon what remains of that willpower to get what he needs. And right now he needs to be by Alberto's side as soon as possible.

Unsurprisingly, the man listens and looks into the flights, quickly exchanging it for him with as little said as possible. "There you go sir," he intones, handing him over a new ticket and itinerary.

Ricardo reads it without moving away from the desk, uninterested in the people behind him who are waiting impatiently for their turn. "Looks right. Thank you," he says simply, turning and walking off. His flight, unfortunately, isn't until morning, so he goes to find a nearby hotel room to hole up for the night, counting the hours until he can go and see for himself that Alberto is going to be alright. He always has a terrible time with insomnia but tonight is even worse, the young man unable to take his hand off of his phone, texting anyone he can think of to tell him anything about Alberto. Brodus is the only one who responds, promising to keep an eye on his former employer.

_This_ eases a little of Ricardo's turmoil. Brodus is, generally, a good guy, and dependable enough. Also, Alberto trusts him more than anyone else in the business so he's sure he's in good hands. Still, he can't sleep, his eyes gritty and red when it's finally time to return to the airport._ This _time, thankfully, things go fine and he's on his way to Alberto's side within a couple of hours. He sits at attention, tapping his fingers anxiously and denying anything the flight attendants offer him.

When the plane finally lands, he's one of the first ones off, walking as quickly through the airport as he dares. Grabs a rental car and drives to the hotel, his teeth gritted together as he goes. The woman behind the desk looks bored, barely blinking when he walks up. "Excuse me," he says tensely. "I'm Ricardo Rodriguez. Is Alberto Del Rio staying here?" He could've called and gotten Alberto's room number but the thoughts of disturbing him when he's probably resting has always been something Ricardo avoids, so this is his next best option.

She chews some gum lazily, still peering at him. "He told us you'd probably be in today," she says. "Left a keycard for you." She finds an envelope and hands it over to him, his name scrawled on it in Alberto's handwriting. "Room 325."

Ricardo nods, flushing a bit at how well his former employer knows him. "Thank you," he says distractedly before walking to the elevator. The trip to the third floor and the time it takes to walk down the hall to his room is torturous but it all washes away when Ricardo unlocks the door and walks inside to find Alberto sitting on the bottom of the bed, looking up at him with a faint smile. When he stands shakily and holds his arms out to Ricardo, the ring announcer drops everything and walks hurriedly to him, hugging him. "El Patron," he breathes out. "I was so scared."

"Me too," he mumbles. "I knew you'd be here, but when I first woke up, and you weren't here..." He presses his face into Ricardo's soft black hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Stupid airlines. I got here as quickly as I could." He pulls back and smiles sadly at Alberto, taking in how pale and exhausted he looks. "What did the trainer say?"

"Concussion," he sighs. "When they clear me for flight, I'm to go home and get checked out by my personal physician." Ricardo nods solemnly, carding his fingers through Alberto's hair soothingly. "You're ok with staying here for awhile, si?"

The ring announcer laughs weakly and pulls Alberto into him, kissing the top of his head. "No question, El Patron. Anywhere you need me to be."

"Gracias," he murmurs into the warm fabric of Ricardo's black sweater, listening to his heart beating. "I'm so tired."

Ricardo immediately moves, helps Alberto up towards the pillows, where he tucks him in and kisses his forehead. Wandering around, he collects his bag and puts it by the wall so they won't trip over it. Adjusts the drapes to keep the sun out and makes sure the Do Not Disturb sign is on the door before toeing his shoes off, followed by his jeans. After changing into much more comfortable black sweatpants he joins Alberto, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. "It's alright, I'm here now. Beunos noche," he murmurs, smiling when Alberto stirs and peeks at him.

"It's afternoon yet."

He laughs warmly and tsks at Alberto, kissing him. "Yes, well, it's nighttime for us because we're going to sleep for a nice long time. Close your eyes, El Patron."

"That does sound nice," he concedes, giving in and doing as Ricardo says with a soft sigh. "Beunos noche, mi valiente. I've missed you."

"I missed you too," Ricardo breathes, nuzzling closer to him. He watches and listens as Alberto slowly falls asleep, his breathing evening out. With a small smile, Ricardo relaxes and, slowly, follows his lead.


	8. Casting Call

Alberto and Ricardo usually make it a point to not be seen together at the arena. Alberto's big idea to cut professional ties with Ricardo hadn't led to the success for either of them that they'd wanted, but they still uphold the gimmick of hating each other, just in case something should change. Even so, everyone's around ringside, either sitting in chairs or standing by the apron, so it doesn't seem like that big of a deal that they'd be standing not that far away from each other.

Drew and Jinder are standing on the ring apron, talking quietly amongst themselves with their backs turned to the others. Quite a few of the wrestlers and divas standing around are beginning to look bored, unsure why they're here to begin with. With time, the volume of their inane chatter rises and seems to attract the members' of 3MB's attention as they turn to look at them all. "Oh, everyone's here, great," Drew drawls, finally entering the ring with Jinder and peering down at the group. "Unfortunately Heath is off for awhile, needin' some time to himself, which means we need an interim member of the band for the holiday tour comin' up. Make a single-file line, no shoving. We'll interview you all fairly for the position."

Ricardo glances around, watching as the wrestlers talk louder for a moment, the majority of them then turning to leave the ringside area. Alberto is among them but he waits, staring up at Drew and Jinder as their expectant faces fall more and more while the room empties. Within minutes, he's the only one standing there but Alberto seems to notice he's not following because he hesitates at the curtain to see what Ricardo's doing.

Jinder nor Drew seems to notice him because they turn away, whispering heatedly amongst themselves. He squares his shoulders, takes a breath and approaches the ring, slowly climbing inside. Holding his hands up in supplication so they don't try to attack him, since neither realize he's in the ring, he clears his throat. "Eh, uh, hola."

Immediately Drew and Jinder stop talking, turning to look at him suspiciously. "What do you want?" Drew asks, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow as Ricardo shifts from foot to foot.

"Uh, well," he says awkwardly. "It seems that you're short a member, and um, everyone else left so perhaps... I could take the position for a bit?"

Drew and Jinder exchange glances before turning to look at him, eyebrows raised. Neither say anything and Ricardo's shoulders start to slump.

"Never mind," he says quietly, turning from them. "I'm sure you had someone else in mind."

He's half way through the ropes when Drew coughs. "How do you like dressing up in costumes?"

Ricardo freezes and turns to look at them incredulously. "Really? You mean you want me to be an interim member of 3MB?"

The two of them exchange glances once more before turning to him. "Yes," Drew says decidedly, clapping a hand on Ricardo's shoulder. "Let's go select costumes." They leave the ring and Ricardo follows them uncertainly, wondering just what kind of ridiculous things they'd dress up as.

Alberto is still standing off to the side so he snags Ricardo by the arm, glancing back at the other two men. "Are you sure about this?" he asks the ring announcer.

"Si, it'll be alright, El Patron. I know they attacked me int he past, but I think things will be alright this time." He reaches up and pats Alberto's hand. "Trust me, El Patron."

He stares into Ricardo's eyes for a moment, before releasing a lengthy sigh. "Si, fine." Leaning in, he kisses him. "Have fun, then."

"I will," Ricardo promises him quietly. Stroking Alberto's hand, he turns and catches up with Drew and Jinder, feeling a little more comfortable in his decision.


	9. Cold

Another day of disasterous flights. Ricardo sighs and stares up at the ceiling, uncertain if he's landed or if he's just imagining things. Grunting, he lifts his cell phone and stares at the time flashing there. "It's seriously almost midnight?" he mumbles to himself, closing his eyes. "Ugh..." Exhausted and chilled as soon as he leaves the airport, the winter weather immediately biting through his clothes, he groans and looks for his rental. When he finally finds it, he almost cries in relief before sliding inside and struggling to start it up, his hands shaking so hard that he has trouble getting the key in the ignition. "Ay dios mio..."

Once the car's on and heat is slowly starting to fill the exterior, easing his shivers little by little, he digs his phone out of his pocket and tweets about his arrival, how cold and sore he feels, mostly to give the warmth a little more time to work its magic. Not that it matters, he realizes upon looking up from the screen. He'll have to leave the car again, walk through the frigid temperatures just to get to the hotel. Groaning, he rests his face against the wheel and breathes out. _If not for Alberto,_ he thinks tiredly, _I'd just park the car and sleep in it... _ But that's not a possibility, so he pulls out onto the main road and makes his way to the hotel, gritting his teeth against the cold weather causing his previously broken bones to throb anew.

Each red light adds to his crankiness but finally, finally the hotel appears in sight and he releases a relieved breath, counting the seconds until he arrives at the turn. Hitting the signal for said turn feels like a little bit of freedom and he's so happy to find a spot close to the building that he almost feels like crying. But the thoughts of having to turn the heat off, getting out of the car and getting his bags before walking to the building causes him to tense up anew. "Alright, Ricardo," he tells himself somberly, "we do this and we're staying inside for the rest of the night, no ifs ands or buts about it. Just... a few more minutes. We can do this."

Taking the keys from the ignition with a grimace, he opens the back door long enough to tug his luggage out. Stopping only long enough to lock the doors before slamming them shut, he continues on to the hotel, each step more painful than the last as his legs rebel against everything, his ankles and knee protesting each movement. He's tired and barely able to keep his eyes open by the time he makes it to the front desk of the hotel, staring at the woman standing there. "Um, hey. I think Alberto Del Rio left something for me?"

She stares at him for a few moments before rifling through some envelopes and papers. "Ricardo Rodriguez?"

"Yeah, that's me," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes. As soon as he has the envelope in hand, he nods and turns away. "Thanks," he calls over his shoulder before trudging towards the elevator, the plush carpetting doing little to ease the pain still throbbing from ankle to thigh. He curses sleepily while squinting at the keycard to figure out what room Alberto's on. Figuring it out, he presses five on the panel and leans against the side of the elevator, biting his lip as he struggles to remain standing.

He doesn't really remember walking down the hall once the elevator opens, but he does recall standing by the door, trying to fit the key card in the slot and failing, his eyes barely open as he leans against the wall, growing frustrated and mumbling sleepily. Finally the door is pulled open and Alberto gapes at him, gripping his bag and tugging it out of his hands before catching him around the shoulders and drawing him into the room. "El Patron," he sighs, leaning into the older man as he pushes him onto the bed and drops Ricardo's bag next to his own. "Am I really here?"

Alberto's laugh is soft and a little sad as he leans over Ricardo and pulls his shoes off. "Si, mi valiente. You're really here. I saw your tweet," he murmurs, frowning when Ricardo shudders wearily. "This weather truly is brutal, hm? Do you want a hot shower?"

"Doubt I'd stay awake for it," he admits lowly. Alberto nods briskly and seems to decide on another course of action, walking towards the front of the bed and gripping him under the arms, helping him to scoot up against the pillows so he'll be more comfortable. "What're you doing, El Patron?" he wonders, watching him closely.

Del Rio merely grins and moves back towards the bottom of the bed after helping him out of his jeans. Ricardo squints at him, still sleepy but fighting to stay awake to see what Alberto's got in mind. "I saw your tweet about being sore because of the weather," he explains. "So I was thinking... perhaps..." His hands are warm and gentle, causing Ricardo to gasp when he grips his ankles, lightly massaging from his heel up to his calves. "Does anything else hurt?"

Ricardo breathes in deeply before peering down at him. "Maybe ... everything? A little?" His grin is a little mischevious, despite his exhaustion, and Alberto laughs warmly, squeezing his ankle.

"Alright, I suppose we'll see what we can do about that too," Alberto muses, knowing that Ricardo will probably be long asleep before he even finishes with his ankles. He's already struggling to keep his eyes open, each blink a little slower than the last, so Alberto pats his knee a couple of times, gaining his attention. "But just in case... buenos noches, mi valiente," he tells him softly, winking when Ricardo relaxes and sinks back into the pillows, understanding that that's Alberto's way of telling him it's ok to fall asleep.

"Buenos noches, El Patron," he sighs. He's out long before Alberto moves up to massage his knees, careful around the scars littering his skin from past injuries.

Smiling wanly, Del Rio moves and grabs the bedding, pulling them up to Ricardo's chin, tucking him in. "Rest well, mi valiente," he whispers to him before kissing his forehead and laying down next to him, wrapping an arm around him to help him warm up the rest of the way.


	10. Pets

Alberto's fast asleep when he hears a soft thudding noise. He grunts and stirs, rolling over enough to throw an arm over the bed. This works against him, however, as the cool air coming from the vent wakes him up even more, his brow furrowing when he hears familiar whispers from the floor. He's about to say something when he hears a vague meowing sound, closing his eyes.

_Misty_, it could only be. Kitty knows better, but Misty is younger, more curious and playful. He had told Ricardo when he began adopting cats that they could roam the house, everywhere _but_ Alberto's bedroom. He didn't want cat fur all over his titles, much less his bedspread. He sighs, rolling away and trying to ignore it, expecting Ricardo to shoo the cat out of the room and come back to bed, but he's just snuggled into the pillows that still smell like his former ring announcer when... Misty makes another pitiful meowing noise and he grunts, opening his eyes and sitting up. "Ricardo."

There's a scramble and Ricardo stares at him, the cat in his hands. "Sorry, El Patron, I'm sorry. She slipped in while I was trying to get a glass of water. I was trying to get her to go back into the hall, but..." She wriggles around in Ricardo's grip and, before either of them could say or do anything, squirms free entirely and leaps up onto Alberto's lap. "Misty! No!" Ricardo chides the cat, scrambling to his feet. "Alberto doesn't want you in here, come on, silly..." He's just reached out for the cat when Alberto shakes his head, resting his large hand on the kitten's head. "El Patron?"

Alberto looks up and smiles at Ricardo's wide eyed, incredulous stare. "It's fine, mi valiente. She's still little, si? She will learn." He lifts the cat up, staring her in the eye as her paws rest on his upper arms, a perplexed look on her face. "It won't be a regular thing, but I suppose if she's missing you, she can stay tonight." Resting her back in his lap, he looks up at his ring announcer. "No one who loves you should have to go without you for too long, after all."

Ricardo flushes, joining them and petting Misty's head. "Gracias, El Patron. I'll keep trying to convince her that your bedroom's off limits. Lo siento..."

"Don't worry about it," Alberto sighs. "Bedding can be cleaned, after all. Besides, I'm rather fond of this one." He pats the cat's side, watching as she leaps out of his lap and kneads the bedding for a bit before curling up between the pillows.

"But not Kitty?" he teases Alberto as they slip under the sheets, both peeking over to make sure they're not disturbing Misty.

"Meh, he's grown on me, I suppose," Alberto concedes, finding Ricardo's hand under the sheets and squeezing it.

Ricardo yawns and listens to Misty purring next to him, smiling as he turns to meet Alberto's eyes. "I'll make you a cat person yet, you just wait and see."

"Hmph," Alberto sighs. "Well if anyone could, I suppose, it'd be you." He strokes Ricardo's knuckles and winks at him. "Buenos noches, mi valiente."

"Buenos noches," he replies softly, reaching out with his free hand to pet Misty once more. "Buenos noches, Misty."

Alberto watches as Ricardo snuggles into the pillows before murmuring, "Buenos noches, Misty." He rolls his eyes when Ricardo laughs quietly, mock-glaring at him when he peeks up at him. His lips twitch into a soft grin as Ricardo snuggles back into the pillows. _This isn't too bad, I suppose,_ he thinks, the cat's soft purrs and Ricardo's steady breaths helping him to relax into a badly needed deep sleep.


	11. Moving On

It's been months since that look had been on Ricardo's face, a concerned sort of focus. But here they are, driving along Tampa streets, giving Sofia space so she can clean in peace, Ricardo's eyes locked on his phone. Alberto keeps glancing over at him, frowning faintly. Finally he grows exasperated and narrows his eyes at Ricardo. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

Ricardo jumps and turns to look at him, wide eyed and more than a little fearful. "N-no, El Patron, nothing's wrong. I just..." He clears his throat. "RVD tweeted me," he admits. He hadn't heard from the other man- as far as Alberto knows- since being ditched by him last fall.

As expected, the Mexican aristocrat tenses up. "I see." He wants to ask so badly, figure out what the highflyer wants _now_, but he's also not sure whether it's his place to ask. He gnaws at his bottom lip, turning his attention back to the road as he drives towards the highway, wanting to drive faster than he can in the city limits. Only a few minutes have passed when Alberto can't take the silence anymore and pulls over on the side of the highway.

Ricardo looks up from his phone, confused. "El Patron, what-" He stops short when he sees the look on Alberto's face. "What's wrong, El Patron?" He puts the phone down and turns towards him, eyes shining with anxiety. "Did I do something?" He reaches out for Alberto just to freeze in midair when Alberto jerks away from him, the displeasure on his face deepening.

RVD had been something of a sensitive topic between them. Not that he blames Ricardo for doing what he felt he needed to to stay on TV, but still. As the weeks had gone by and RVD and Ricardo became better friends, Alberto _had_ fought off feelings of jealousy. Especially when Ricardo began teaching RVD Spanish. For that brief period of time, it hadn't mattered that it was always his hotel room that Ricardo returned to every night. Although it had caused Ricardo pain physical and emotional, also hindering his career even more, it had mostly been a relief to Alberto when RVD left for his own emotional well-being. All of these thoughts racing around in Alberto's mind, his voice is tense and dark with loathing when he asks. "What does he want?"

Ricardo's brows furrow before he peeks back at his dark phone. "Someone tweeted me asking where Rob was at... and he replied asking where _I_ was at..."

Alberto takes a breath, steeling himself for going through all of _that_ again. Having his best friend, his love, claim to be determined to take his title from him... an act, sure, but the issues with Rob himself far from fake. They had never really discussed it, the entire situation still a sore subject for both of them, for different reasons. He reaches over and grips Ricardo's hand, running his tongue over his teeth thoughtfully. "What did you say, then?"

"I suggested we do something for Wrestlemania." Ricardo turns his hand so that they're resting palm to palm, staring into Alberto's eyes. "He hasn't said anything but either way, I doubt you have anything to worry about, El Patron. It won't be like last time."

"You can't promise that," Alberto murmurs, brushing his thumb over Ricardo's knuckles. "It could easily- he might decide to use you against me again-"

Ricardo shakes his head. "I suspect Rob will have other focuses this time around." Reaching up with his free hand, he tugs Alberto closer to him and hugs him. "Even if he did try to get revenge against you, it won't be like before. Things won't be so... fresh, won't be so raw between us. Si?"

Alberto takes a breath, nodding. "Right. Si. Of course." He smiles wanly at Ricardo. "Lo siento, mi valiente, it's just... not very good memories."

"I understand," he whispers. "Do you want to continue driving?" Alberto nods, slowly straightening himself in his seat as Ricardo does the same, adjusting his seatbelt. He smiles upon watching as Ricardo purposely drops his phone in the glove compartment, shutting it forcefully.

"Gracias," Alberto breathes out, the silence now content, simple, instead of the tense, awkward thing it had been earlier. Ricardo smiles at him and he winks back at the former ring announcer before merging back into the highway traffic, relieved to leave these old doubts and jealousies behind.


	12. Commentary

It's the night of the Royal Rumble. Ricardo is standing by the gorilla position, tapping his microphone and waiting for any possible interview duties when a random tech comes up to him and says something. Alberto, watching from a few feet away, raises his eyebrow curiously but is too far away to hear what's going on. The tech motions to Ricardo and guides him down the hall, their heads pressed together as they discuss... whatever it is, and Alberto frowns.

He's still standing there when Ricardo nods, thanking the tech and turning to walk back towards gorilla. Alberto pulls away from the wall and approaches the table as well, making a show out of staring at the match board hung next to it. "What was that?" he mumbles loud enough for Ricardo to hear, but none of the other nosy people scattered around.

"They want me to commentate PPVs on the Spanish table," Ricardo whispers back, pretending to check his microphone for defects. Alberto glances over at him and he shrugs, eyes fixed on his own hands. "It's better than nothing, I suppose."

That's not Alberto's main concern, however, all too aware of how often the Spanish tables are targetted. "Mi valiente," he breathes, but then another tech approaches and Ricardo straightens up to talk to him.

"We'll talk later, El Patron," he whispers, discreetly patting Alberto on the arm before leaving him to stew in silence.

"Ay," he huffs, turning to watch through the current as Ricardo takes his place at the Spanish table. He doesn't like this, doesn't like it much at all. At least during interviews, Ricardo is relatively safe... but out there, so close to the action... He makes a face before walking down the hall, trying to focus on his own role in the Rumble.

He's entry number 27, glancing through the sea of bodies in the ring to catch a glimpse of Ricardo, who seems relatively unharmed at the table. He breathes a little easier as he slides into the action, tries to fight his way to another title opportunity. He'd wanted the WWE World Heavyweight Title back so badly, it was like an ache, but he knows things are going wrong as soon as Batista enters the ring. Despite his best efforts, he's thrown out and lands not far away from where Ricardo's sitting.

He grunts and struggles back up to his feet, catching his ring announcer's eye before turning and making his way backstage, angry at having lost. His displeasure grows when Batista wins the damn Rumble, but he says nothing, sitting in the locker room until the PPV ends and Ricardo finally rejoins him, cupping his hands. "El Patron?"

Sitting up, he searches Ricardo's face. "Let's get out of here, mi valiente." The younger man nods, waiting as Alberto changes into street clothes, before snagging his bag and wrapping an arm around Alberto, following him out to the car.

Later on, Alberto is sitting on the edge of the bed, sorting through their itinerary the next week, when Ricardo comes out of the bathroom, hair slicked back and wet. Smiling, he sits next to Alberto and looks down at the papers while he runs a towel through his hair. Alberto glances over and puts the papers down, taking the towel from him and firmly drying his hair. Ricardo sighs and leans into his touch, eyes fluttering. "El Patron," he breathes out, enjoying how he's massaging his scalp with the soft fabric.

Alberto allows him a moment before pulling away, wrapping the towel around Ricardo's shoulders. "Did you enjoy commentating tonight, mi valiente?"

"Si. It was... different," he says after a moment. "I'd prefer to be in the ring, but I'll make the most of this." He leans against Alberto and releases a breath. "I'm sorry you didn't win the Rumble, El Patron. I know you were hoping to main event Wrestlemania, get your title back..."

"Hm," Alberto mutters, this far from his mind right now however. He brushes his fingers through Ricardo's soft hair. "Yes, well, I was more concerned for you," he admits. "That Spanish table... it's targetted so often..."

"I'll keep it safe," Ricardo says with a vague laugh but, when Alberto doesn't laugh as well, he sits up and stares his former employer in the eye. "You're really worried about this, huh?" He smiles and cups Alberto's face. "I'll be fine. I know to get out of the way if someone's coming for the table. Don't worry. No one'll touch me."

"Hmm," Alberto repeats, leaning forward and kissing Ricardo's nose. "They'd better not." He stares into Ricardo's eyes. "I'd have to find some of my old aggression and kick their traseros." The ring announcer laughs, leaning forward and resting his head against Alberto's shoulder as he hugs him. "I am happy as long as you're happy, though, mi valiente."

Ricardo nods as Alberto strokes his back, smiling. "Gracias, El Patron."


	13. Imagine

After another week's worth of events and all of the traveling and less than stellar meals, Ricardo and Alberto are relieved to be back home in Florida. Alberto lounges in the hammock, Ricardo settled back in his arms and watching the clouds float by overhead. The wind lightly sways them and Alberto nuzzles into Ricardo's hair. "This is nice, hm, mi valiente?"

"Si it is," he whispers. Although he seems relaxed enough, he's not surprised when Alberto brushes his hair aside and tilts his head, staring into his eyes. He grips the Mexican aristocrat's hand and squeezes it, smiling to show he's ok. Alberto still looks concerned, though, so Ricardo releases a breath, voicing what he's been thinking about. "Do you ever think what it'd be like to still work together?"

Alberto pauses, allowing the hammock to rock back and forth a few more moments before resting his head on Ricardo's shoulder. "Sometimes," he says softly. "What's brought this on, mi valiente?"

Ricardo shrugs aimlessly. "Just thinking, I suppose. Of the good times."

Alberto grimaces and rubs a hand along Ricardo's chest, also remembering their years of working together. "There weren't enough of them, mi valiente."

"I suppose," Ricardo concedes. "You were hard to please, sometimes, but in this business, it's understandable. But after Sheamus' attack... and everything else... you softened." He rests a hand on Alberto's jaw, lightly stroking his skin. "I forgave you for all of that a long time ago anyway. I know you've said in interviews that you like doing things on your own, but it's just a nice thought." He nuzzles into Alberto's throat and sighs as he tightens his arms around him.

"It is," he admits. "But do you really want to backtrack, mi valiente? I know the interviews and commentary aren't exactly what we were foreseeing for you after we split up, but it could segue into something else, si?"

"I know," Ricardo murmurs, closing his eyes and absorbing the sunshine quietly. "I'll try to be patient for a little longer. You're right, after all."

Alberto smiles and kisses the side of his face. "You were the best ring announcer and although I do miss working with you, I want you to have a true opportunity to shine on your own. And I know you can and will. Othewise I would've never let you go."

Ricardo smiles against Alberto's warm flesh, humming slightly. "Gracias, El Patron."


	14. Interview

Alberto isn't booked for Smackdown this week. He stews over this fact, far from pleased over it, when he decides just to suck it up, hang around for Ricardo's sake, and then return to the hotel and rest until they can fly home. He also hadn't done much on Raw, but at least he had found a reason to appear on TV, even if it was just to briefly confront Batista. Tonight, Batista isn't around and his heart isn't in whatever's going on anyway.

Ricardo has interviews to conduct so Alberto tries to stay away, give him time and space to finish them so they can hopefully leave earlier, but he still finds himself loitering around the main locker room, aware that Ricardo's interviewing the Los Matadores in there. He's waiting, hands in his pockets, when there's a commotion inside. His eyebrows lift into his hairline as the two men dash out of the room, trying to control their little bull, and he frowns at their departing backs, before pushing the door open to enter.

Ricardo is slumped over on a bench, gripping his midsection, but as soon as he hears Alberto enter, he tries to sit up straight and act like nothing's wrong. "Eh, oh," he mumbles, his shoulders falling when he realizes _who_ it is. "El Patron." As Alberto approaches him, he tries to shrug it off, get to his feet. "That bull, he is... something else, isn't he?" He pales, staggers forward and Alberto grips him under the arms instinctively, guiding him back down slowly before he falls.

"Whoa, whoa, mi valiente," he gasps, brushing hair out of Ricardo's eyes once he's safely back on the ground. "What did he do? Hm? What's wrong?"

"Gored me," he grunts, breathing out sharply. "I thought I was ok but... ay dios mio, standing was a mistake... this hurts." He buries his face in Alberto's chest as the older man steadies him with a hand on his chest.

"I'm getting the trainer," he decides, getting to his feet and helping Ricardo lean back against the wall. "Don't move." He's just turned towards the door when Ricardo snags his wrist and holds on, shaking his head desperately. "Mi valiente, you're in pain, who knows-"

"No, por favor," he pleads. "It's bad enough people will see the footage online, I just... I don't want to hear about it from the others. Just... help me out to the car, I'll be ok. I promise."

Alberto frowns, clearly not entirely sold, but he finally grips Ricardo under the arms and helps him up again, listening to his rough breathing as they walk slowly down the hall towards the exit. How they make it to the car, Alberto's not sure, but finally he gets Ricardo settled in the passenger seat and rests a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to look at your stomach for a second, alright?"

Ricardo nods tiredly and drops his head back as Alberto tugs at his jacket, soon freeing him from the shirt underneath it. Cool air brushing against his flesh is the only sign that Alberto's checking his midsection out as silence fills the car. He tilts his head and murmurs, "El Patron? What is it?" Alberto's fingers over the most sore parts of his stomach makes Ricardo jump and hiss. "Que...?"

"I will kill that little bull if I see him again," Alberto mumbles, adjusting Ricardo's clothes and standing up. "It's ok, don't worry. We'll get you to the hotel and I'll patch you up." He leans in and kisses Ricardo's forehead before running over to the driver's side.

The ride to the hotel is quiet, tense. Ricardo feels every bump in the road, every stop and go motion of the vehicle, keeping his eyes closed in an attempt to not distress Alberto further. Once they arrive, it's another excruciatingly long walk to their hotel room, Alberto bracing him in the elevator as it rides up the floors. Thankfully, they're in the first room so the walk out of the elevator isn't as bad, though he's still breathless and clammy once they do arrive.

Alberto rests him on the bed, peeling Ricardo's jacket off entirely before pulling his shirt off as well. Laying him down on the bed, he forces a smile and pats Ricardo's face. "I'm going to get the first aid kit, you wait right here." They'd taken to carrying it after the feud with Big Show, when Ricardo's chest was regularly raw from his chops, but he hadn't seen it in quite awhile.

Worrying his lip, he props himself up on his elbows and stares. There are two, small puncture marks on his stomach- from El Torito's horns- and he grunts, realizing just why it hurt to walk. They're not deep, but still. Definitely enough to cause him pain for awhile. "Ay," he hisses, dropping back against the pillows as Alberto rejoins him.

Resting the first aid kit on the bed, he reaches out and brushes his fingers through Ricardo's hair, smiling sympathetically down at him. "It doesn't look so good, hm, mi valiente? But it's ok, I'll make it better." Ricardo nods dozily, tipping his head to watch as Alberto runs a warm washcloth over the wounds, cleaning them off to get a better look. "It's a good thing he's so little and pathetic," Alberto muses. "These are minor, which is the only reason I'm not taking you to the hospital."

Ricardo sighs as Alberto smears cool first aid cream over them, murmuring to him when he presses gauze over the wounds and taping it into place. The ring announcer is breathing heavily again but, as Alberto clears the first aid kit and its supplies off of the bed, throwing away what's needed, he relaxes and calms down. By the time the Mexican aristocrat lays back down next to him, he's calm once more, eyes fluttering when Alberto carefully wraps an arm around him and hugs him close, kissing his shoulder. "Gracias," he breathes, smiling at Alberto.

"De nada, Ricardo. Any time," he whispers back. "I love you."

"I love you too," he sighs. They lay quietly for awhile before Ricardo closes his eyes and gives into sleep, Alberto relieved to see that it seems restful enough. He nuzzles into him, listening to his breathing, before dozing off as well.


	15. Redemption

After Raw, Alberto sighs, relieved to return to the hotel, lay down and rest for awhile. Ricardo is in the bathroom, getting ready for bed, leaving his former employer to scroll through texts and tweet alerts. He barely pays attention to any of them until he sees Ricardo's twitter handle, stopping short. He's clearly holding true to their plan, despite how faulty it'd already proven to be, but still the things they have to say and do against each other... it gets tiresome. Alberto sighs and presses buttons until his phone's screen goes dark, just as Ricardo leaves the bathroom and settles down next to him.

"Buenos noches, El Patron," he whispers, kissing Alberto before settling against his chest and closing his eyes.

"Buenos noches, mi valiente," he murmurs in kind, listening to Ricardo's breath slowly evening out as he falls asleep. Alberto doesn't find it as easily, however, staring up at the ceiling as the night ticks by slowly. Finally he drifts into an uneasy sleep, Ricardo's insults over the past few months fresh on his mind, the things he's had to say and do as well.

He wakes up to the sun shining in through the hotel window and... no Ricardo. Frowning, he looks around, expecting the younger man to just be in the bathroom, or maybe at the edge of the bed, watching TV. But the room is quiet, there being no sign of life anywhere else. Alberto frowns and sits up, smoothing his hair down before padding around the room just to make sure, but no. The bathroom is quiet, and there's no sign of him down the hall at the ice machine. "Ricardo?"

Ducking back into the room, he slips into his shoes, realizing that Ricardo's things are gone- his bag, _his_ shoes, the bottle of water he'd been drinking the night before. If Alberto didn't know better, it'd almost be like the man was never here. "Ay," he grunts, palming his keycard and wallet before leaving the room. A few wrestlers are scattered around in the front lobby of the hotel, preparing to leave, and he looks around, trying to find Ricardo. "Where is he?" he murmurs, turning in a circle until he finally spots him. Standing across the room with... his breath stutters in his lungs.

RVD laughs and nods at whatever Ricardo's saying, the two of them completely focused on each other. Alberto snarls at his old rival, collecting himself and storming over to them. "What is this, Ricardo?" he demands.

Ricardo rolls his eyes and steps past RVD, showing no signs of the timid creature he sometimes falls back into being when confronted. "What does it look like, Alberto?" Not being called _El Patron_ stings more than Alberto would ever admit as they stare at each other. "Now if you don't mind." But it's clear it doesn't matter as Ricardo turns to resume his conversation with Rob.

"Hey!" Alberto grips his wrist, trying to get him to talk to him, figure out what was going on but the look Ricardo shoots him as he pulls away, looking like he's gearing up for a fight, those old defenses shoring up between them once more, makes him stop short. "Ricardo..."

"Leave me alone," he tells him coolly. "You deserve to be alone. Rob, he knows how to be a true friend, he knows how to relax and have a good time, see beyond his title reigns and career aspirations. He understands that life is meant to be enjoyed instead of being just another power grab. You've never got any of that, and you wonder why no one wants to be around you."

Alberto can do nothing but gape as the two men stand side by side, a cocky smirk on Rob's face as Ricardo chooses _him_ over Alberto. "No, no, mi valiente, please-"

"I was never your bravery," Ricardo snaps back at him. "You have no bravery. You're a coward, Alberto. You always have been. You never deserved me-"

"No!" Alberto chokes out, confused as he comes face to face with darkness, frowning. He's sweaty and shaking, tensing when he's touched, a warm hand resting on his shoulder. "Let go," he snarls, preparing to attack when-

"El Patron," Ricardo says sleepily, sitting up and resting his head on Alberto's shoulder while hugging him from behind. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

He releases a breath and rests a hand on top of Ricardo's, his head lowering to rest against their intertwined fingers. "Just a nightmare," he mumbles.

"Seemed like a pretty bad one," Ricardo muses, nuzzling into his neck and pressing a soft kiss to the heated flesh there. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Alberto sighs, allowing himself to be guided back against the mattress as Ricardo shuffles around and settles against him. He softly strokes the younger man's hair, closing his eyes. "Do you ever... feel like we're taking this plan a little... too far?"

Ricardo leans up and stares into his eyes. "Is that what your nightmare was about? Did my tweets earlier...?"

"It's not your fault," Alberto says, stroking his sides. "I put all of this into motion, after all. I'm just pondering if perhaps it's time to drop the pretense. I hate hurting you, and I know you were never in favor of making it so personal..."

Ricardo sighs and presses a kiss to Alberto's arm before settling back against him. "I'm following your lead, El Patron. If you want to stop, that's fine with me. If you think it's still beneficial, then I'll continue on. It's up to you."

Alberto sighs and kisses the top of Ricardo's head, closing his eyes. "You're too good to me, mi valiente." Laying here, with Ricardo in his arms, listening to him breathe, it almost helps him to forget the nightmare, the look in _that _Ricardo's eyes. "You know that I was WWE Jerk of the Month again?"

Ricardo's lips twitch against his chest as he nods. "Si, I heard something about that." He teases Alberto with soft, tickling touches. "I believe I was mentioned in that article as well?"

"I believe so," Alberto smirks almost bitterly. "About how I target those weaker than me..." His hand spans the top of Ricardo's head as he kisses him. "The article is wrong however, because you were always my strength..."

Ricardo smiles and cups Alberto's face, searching his eyes. "It's a mutual thing, El Patron. I wouldn't be half as strong without you."

Alberto hums and pulls him closer, hugging him close. "Let's get some sleep, mi valiente. I don't think I'll be having any more nightmares."

Ricardo nods, murmuring, "Good." They lay quietly wrapped up in each other, enjoying the peace of the moment, before slowly succumbing to badly needed sleep.


	16. Ride

It's in the early evening, Alberto busy in his office handling some scheduling business, when his phone beeps. He only has a select few accounts set to send their tweets directly to his phone, so he doesn't miss anything, one of which is Ricardo's. Rubbing his tired eyes, he picks the phone up and accesses the text messages, smiling when he sees that it is indeed from his ring announcer, talking about how nostalgic he is towards riding horses like he did as a child, and how he had woke up from a dream about doing that very thing this morning.

Alberto pauses over the words, frowning at the thought of Ricardo yearning for something and not letting him know, because he thought he'd made it clear he'd do pretty much anything to make the other man smile, especially after how things had gone the past year. "Hmm, well, a tweet will have to suffice, I suppose," he mumbles, putting the phone down and pushing his other busy work away to begin planning something else.

-x

Ricardo wakes up the next morning off of more dreams about horses and the curious feeling of being weightless as he rides them through meadows, releasing a soft yawn before blinking his eyes open to find Alberto laying on his side, watching him with a small smile. "Hola, El Patron," he greets him sleepily, pressing his face into the older man's chest.

"Buenos dias," Alberto murmurs, stroking his hair. "Are you ready to get up?"

"Hmm, I suppose," Ricardo hums. "Do we have obligations today?"

"Of a sort," Alberto laughs, kissing the top of his head. "Come, mi valiente. Let's see what the day brings, hm?" Ricardo nods sleepily and allows his former employer to lead him into the kitchen, where Sofia is waiting with coffee and a soft smile.

"Do you know what he has planned?" the younger man asks her with a small laugh, sitting down at the table.

"Mmm," she muses, pouring him some coffee before moving to serve them breakfasts of eggs and sausages. "Perhaps."

He pouts, already aware she wasn't going to tell him anything, before picking up his fork and beginning to eat. "Of course," he sighs, always hating to wait for one of Alberto's surprises.

This one ends up stranger than usual because, once he's done eating and dressed for the day, Alberto blindfolds him and makes sure he can't see anything by sneaking up on him and kissing him, satisfied when he jumps in response. "Come then," he says quietly, taking Ricardo's hand and leading him to the car. The nearest horse farm that Alberto thought sounded the best is a decent drive away and he worries over how Ricardo will handle being blindfolded that long, but he's a champ through it all, not complaining once. If not for the uncertain twist to his lips sometimes, Alberto wouldn't know if he was feeling off about things at all. "Almost there, mi valiente," he says, turning down the music that he'd left up loud to comfort Ricardo. "You doing alright?"

"Si," Ricardo nods. "But... I _can_ look as we drive back home, right?"

Alberto feels even worse at the realization that one of Ricardo's favorite things to do is see the sights they drive by on one of these adventures, and he had taken that from him. "Si, of course," he agrees, already deciding to take the long way home so Ricardo can see even more of Florida country side to make up for what he had missed this afternoon.

"Gracias," he says with a soft smile. They drive in silence for a little longer before Alberto sees the signs pointing towards Aluchua Ranch. It's a small little ranch, with trails leading away from it, and Alberto can already see a couple of horses peacefully feeding off in the distance. He smiles, turning to look at Ricardo. "We're here," he says quietly, cutting the engine and getting out of the car. He races around and helps Ricardo out of the passenger's seat before standing him in perfect sight of the horses grazing. "Ready?"

"Mm hmm," Ricardo whispers, waiting patiently as Alberto unties the blindfold and allows him to look around. He gasps, his eyes widening as Alberto beams at him. "El Patron!" He stares at the beautiful animals for a moment before hugging his former employer hard. "It... they... this is amazing."

"I saw your tweet," Alberto explains. "And I began to look around and found this place. They allow horseback riding, and the pictures looked so beautiful... I thought perhaps you would enjoy spending the day here."

"Yes!" Ricardo gasps, gripping his collar and pulling him closer, kissing him. "Gracias, this is... I can't even describe it."

"I like to make you speechless," Alberto chuckles, kissing the side of his face before they turn to find the ranch hands to set things up. It isn't long before Ricardo's on top of a horse, looking natural and graceful up there. Alberto watches him while struggling to get atop his own steed, biting his lip as the animal just doesn't seem to like him. "Perhaps we should..."

Before he can finish, Ricardo dismounts from his own horse and comes over. "Are you alright, El Patron?" he asks, stroking the horse's flank. It immediately turns and noses at Ricardo, causing him to giggle, and Alberto grits his teeth at the finicky creature.

"I may have to get a different horse, this one doesn't like me."

Ricardo glances over at him and shakes his head. "What's wrong with him? He seems fine..." He strokes the horse's nose and smiles. "You're an alright guy, aren't you? Yeah..." He turns to look at Alberto, raising his eyebrows. "Try now, El Patron. He was probably just a little nervous."

Alberto narrows his eyes at Ricardo but this time, with a little bit of assistant from the ranch hand, manages it, ending up safely on the horse. He huffs as Ricardo easily hops back up onto his own horse and lightly flicks the reigns, guiding them side by side. He reaches over and pets Alberto's horse once more. "Ricardo..."

"It's fine, El Patron," he says softly. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?" The horse knickers and Alberto huffs, though his eyes are soft with affection for the ring announcer. "You ready to ride?"

"I suppose," Alberto says, gripping the reigns tightly. Ricardo gently reaches over and holds his hands until he relaxes, taking a deep breath. "You'll stay close, si?"

"Of course," Ricardo tells him with a small smile. "We'll go slow, El Patron," And they do, going at a slow walk through the grass up to the trails where they amble for awhile. Alberto breathes easier when his horse doesn't seem inclined to rear back and buck him off, the walk suiting all four of them just fine. "Doing alright, El Patron?"

"Si, gracias. I've never ridden a horse before," he confesses lowly. "With all of my cars, I never saw the need. I am glad I decided to try it." Ricardo smiles at him and loosens his grip on the reigns, reaching over. Alberto meets him half way and squeezes his hand as they look around at the beautiful foliage and countryside.

"This is so amazing," Ricardo whispers.

"Any time you want to come back, just let me know," Alberto tells him. "I'll make it happen."

Ricardo grins. "I love you, El Patron."

"I love you too, mi valiente," he says softly, lifting his hand and lightly kissing it.

They ride for another fifteen minutes before Ricardo decides Alberto's had enough for his first time, helping him to guide his horse back around so they can return to the ranch. "This has been an amazing day," he sighs, stroking his steed's mane.

Alberto quietly agrees, unable to take his eyes off of the peaceful expression on Ricardo's face.


	17. Happiness

It's difficult. Since splitting, nothing's quite gone right for Alberto _or_ Ricardo. Alberto hasn't had a decent opportunity at a title in months, and Ricardo is still stuck doing interviews and commentary before PPVs. When they're at home, with Sofia's soothing presence and everything going on there, they find ways to keep busy but, while on the road, unable to be in each other's presence because everyone is supposed to think they hate each other, it's tedious. Painful.

Ricardo is laying on his stomach, staring at his phone and listening to Alberto wander around the hotel room, neither looking forward to going to Raw that night. Alberto's fingers rest low on Ricardo's back after a few moments, massaging up his spine before he whispers, "Mi valiente?"

Ricardo stirs. He looks over his shoulder, smile small. "Si, El Patron?" Rolling onto his back so he's facing Alberto, they stare at each other a few moments before Alberto leans in and kisses him. Ricardo sighs and cups the back of his head, deepening the kiss. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Just you," Alberto says, smile confident and sweet all at the same time. "Come with me." He grips Ricardo hand and pulls him up, leads him out of the room.

They head to Alberto's car and Ricardo falters, staring at it, then over at Alberto. It's getting harder and harder for both of them to get up, want to go to the arena each day, but this... to actually get in a car and just go a couple of hours before the night's event, well... "I don't know," he says faintly. "Alberto..."

"We're not ditching," Alberto sighs. "I just want a little time with you, where we're not trapped in some stuffy hotel room. Si?"

Ricardo thinks for a minute about how the size of the penthouse Alberto usually books for these events are larger than many of the apartments he's lived in, and even the places he'd resided in with his mom and sister as a kid. But he understands, nodding quietly. "Si." They get into the car and Alberto drives quiet through the streets to the outskirts of town. It's a quiet, cool April day and Ricardo snuggles into his jacket once they're out, leaning against the hood of the car and taking it all in while soft mariachi music plays behind them.

Alberto rests next to him, the two of them absorbing the soft blue sky overhead, each other's warmth. "This is nice," he says. "Feels like we're back home."

Ricardo nods, resting his head against Alberto's shoulder. "Si. Maybe we should do this more often."

Alberto nods, running his hand through Ricardo's soft hair, down his cheek. "Si, I think so. Just the two of us, away from all of the perros." Ricardo chuckles at this and exhales, kissing Alberto's fingers as they ease closer to his lips.

"I'd like that," he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning closer to Alberto. "A lot."

"Then we'll do that," Alberto hums, turning and kissing Ricardo soothingly. "How we'll get through this."

"Ok," Ricardo breathes into him. "Sounds perfect." It does, and it is.

For awhile.


	18. Celebrate

Ricardo's still not used to getting booked consecutively for WWE_ or_ NXT. When he receives the actual calendar of dates with matches for him and Kalisto to see how they gel as a tag team in NXT, he's not sure he's breathing properly, or reading it right. Getting up, he takes his phone downstairs and finds Alberto training in the basement ring, punching the bag so ferociously that Ricardo stands there for a few moments, just watching with a small, proud smile until Alberto finally notices him, patting the bag before walking away from it. "I didn't see you there, mi valiente," he says quietly, patting his face with a towel and leaning in to kiss Ricardo once he's somewhat presentable.

"Tell me if I'm reading things, El Patron," Ricardo requests, holding his phone out. He stands there anxiously as Alberto reads through the calendar, frowning. Once Alberto looks up, he swallows. "Well?"

"Well, you're booked," Alberto says, his expression softening into a proud grin. "You're going to tear through the rookies in that tag team division, mi valiente."

Ricardo exhales and grins as well, relieved that he wasn't hallucinating or misunderstanding. "Gracias, I hope so." He leans into Alberto as he hugs him, not even minding how sweaty Alberto is. "We should celebrate."

"Yes, and we should invite Sofia," Alberto agrees, patting his jaw as he pulls away. "But first I must shower. I look awful."

"You could never look awful," Ricardo refutes, smiling as Alberto leans in and kisses him.

"You always know just the right things to say," Alberto tells him, winking before walking upstairs to mention their plans to Sofia and then shower.

Ricardo watches him go before sprawling out in the middle of Alberto's ring, staring up at the ceiling. "Soon," he murmurs. _Soon, I will be competing once more..._ Sighing happily, he gets up and goes upstairs to change and make sure his hair is manageable.

An hour later, he, Alberto and Sofia are settling at a table in Ricardo's favorite sushi place located in downtown Miami, and the housekeeper smiles at them, reaching over to squeeze Ricardo's hand. "Muchas gracias for inviting me... and I'm so proud of you, Ricardo. I can't wait to watch your matches."

He smiles affectionately at her. "The three of us should do things like this more often, Sofia. But gracias, I will make sure you get tickets to all of them."

Sofia beams at him, about to respond when the waitress comes up to take their drink orders. Once the drinks arrive and they order sushi and some beef and fried rice to share between the three of them, Alberto lifts his glass of wine and clicks it with Ricardo's sake and Sofia's pineapple margarita. "To Ricardo," he says softly. "May you find all of the success you've always deserved."

"Si," Sofia agrees, smiling.

"Gracias," Ricardo says, feeling choked up as he looks between the two best people in his life. "I wouldn't have made it this far without you." Sofia makes a soft tsking noise and puts her drink down, hugging him from the left while Alberto stands up and hugs him from the other side, Ricardo calming down slowly as he's sandwiched between their warm support. He smiles and wraps an arm around them both, eyes locked on his plate sheepishly until Alberto tilts his face up and softly kisses him. "Gracias."

"It's our pleasure," Sofia tells him, patting his hand. Once they're sure he's less emotional, they pull away and look up as the waitress joins them a few moments later, placing plates full of sushi, beef and rice in front of them. Ricardo exhales as he looks at it all, the three of them echoing thank you to the woman as she urges them to enjoy and bustles off to handle a different table. "I could get used to this," Sofia says after taking another sip of her drink, Alberto and Ricardo staring at her in silent surprise before she winks at them and they realize she's teasing, the three of them starting to laugh.


	19. Fiesta

Despite being booked on NXT as a tag team wrestler, Ricardo is still contracted to do interviews and commentary on regular WWE programming, so he's pacing around backstage, waiting and watching for an opportunity to film something for the website when Alberto storms backstage just a few feet behind him, yelling out in angry Spanish. Ricardo freezes and turns to look at him, the two of them unable to talk properly because of all of the people wandering around the hallway. Alberto glares at him before nodding towards a room to the side, Ricardo obediently walking that way.

A few moments after the door slips shut behind Ricardo, Alberto joins him and paces around, tearing at his hair. Ricardo quickly walks up to him and grips his hands, trying to stop him from hurting himself. "El Patron, what's wrong?" he asks, scared to talk any louder, despite his panic.

"I am so sick of losing, mi valiente," he grumbles. "And now, as if that failure is not bad enough, those nasty, dirty Los Matadores have taken my fiesta supplies."

Ricardo frowns, gaze flickering around as he tries to think. "You still kept that stuff, El Patron?" The last fiesta Ricardo remembers had been the one Alberto held just before Ricardo's suspension, nothing that he wants to remember all that well.

"Si, of course I did. I could win back the heavyweight title at any time and require a proper celebration, mi valiente!" Alberto snaps before he realizes how glum Ricardo looks, squeezing his shoulder as he too remembers. "Lo siento, Ricardo. I suppose I've forgotten the last time we had a fiesta together. It just annoys me because I paid the WWE perros to transport these things and they allow anyone to use them. Hmph." He strokes the former ring announcer's arm comfortingly before sighing. "I suppose it is just something I will have to figure out, how to overcome all of these losses. Get my head back on straight. I will leave you to your interviews." He sneaks in and kisses Ricardo, relieved when Ricardo responds before he pulls away. His wink is half-hearted and grim as he pulls away and leaves the room.

Ricardo watches him go, licking his lips thoughtfully as ideas run through his mind at a breakneck speed. Coming to a decision, he tightens his grip on the microphone he always keeps with him just in case he runs into someone and slips out of the room. He's had bad results in the past interviewing these idiots but it's his best option right now, so he finds them and requests an interview. As they ramble on about Cinco de Mayo, he sneaks glances here and there, trying to find any sign of Alberto's things. Of course this interview ends as they all do with El Torito goring him and sending him stumbling back into the bench, struggling to catch his breath as Fernando and Diego laugh, leaving the locker room- and him- behind.

As soon as some of the pain eases, he gets to his feet and rubs his midsection, gritting his teeth against the soreness brought on mostly by El Torito's horns. "Estúpido," he exhales, walking carefully over to the cubbies and searching them. Nothing catches his eye, just spare clothes and masks and random bull supplies. He grimaces, rubbing at his face before turning and almost tripping on a bag that was hidden under one of the benches. Hesitating, he hooks it with his foot and pulls it out, realizing he's found what he needs as soon as he opens it. "Ooh..."

Red and green decorations greet him and he grits his teeth against the reoccuring bad memories once more as he pushes them back inside and zips the bag up again, hoisting it up and gripping his microphone before heading to the door. Glancing left to right, he's relieved to find it quiet and escapes hurriedly, finding Alberto's personal locker room and slipping inside. He's not sure where Alberto is but he knows he wouldn't leave without him, so he sits and waits, staring down at the bag tucked safely against his feet.

Finally the door is pushed open and Alberto comes in, still looking somewhat grumpy. His eyes soften, however, when he spots Ricardo, and then his lips part as he notices the bag at his feet. "What did you do?" he breathes out, kneeling down next to the bench and unzipping it, quickly going through everything inside. "It's all here. How did you find it?"

"Being an interviewer has its advantages," Ricardo manages without grimacing in pain, smiling at his former employer.

"But... they have attacked you in the past for it," Alberto says, his brows furrowing. "How did you walk away unscathed tonight?" Ricardo pales a little and tries to find an explanation before Alberto sits down next to him and rests his hand on Ricardo's lower stomach, lightly prodding.

"Ay," Ricardo grunts, trying to squirm away. "Stop, El Patron, I'm fine."

"You definitely are not," Alberto hisses, putting his fingers back and pressing in until Ricardo groans, his eyes squeezed shut when Alberto peeks up at him. "Oh, mi valiente, that perro bull gored you again, si?" 

"Si," Ricardo grunts, leaning forward as Alberto gentles his touch, massaging the sore muscles below his fingertips. The massage eventually starts to work, Ricardo's breathing calming down as the pain eases away. "Gracias," he sighs.

Alberto leans in and kisses him. "I'll take better care of you once we're back at the hotel, I promise. Muchas gracias for getting my things back, mi valiente. I don't know what i'd do without you."

Ricardo smiles at him, his eyes gleaming. "You'll never have to worry about that," he promises, quickly kissing Alberto. "May we leave soon?"

"Si, I'm done here," Alberto says, collecting all of their bags and ignoring Ricardo's protests. "Let's go." Hand pressed to Ricardo's back, he leads him down a quiet part of the hallway towards the exit, determined to get them back to the hotel ASAP so Ricardo can rest and recover.


End file.
